Nearer My God to Thee
by Aetas
Summary: Claire Armstrong had her doubts about sailing to America, but her voyage on the Titanic proves to be one that will change her forever.
1. Departure

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Titanic. If I did, I promise you I would be filthy rich by now.

---

When my brother told me he was going to America, I truly was happy for him. I knew he'd been saving his money for months, gathering up the meager salary he received from his low-paying job and what was left of our inheritance. It had been a long time since I'd seen his face so bright, his expression so cheerful. I suppose it was his pure joy, a joy that had I feared had abandoned him, that possessed me to go with him. It was a decision I now sorely regret.

I never believed my future would be found in America. England was my home; it had been for my entire life. London was where I was born, where I'd grown up. Yet I listened to my brother when he explained just what awaited for me, and I believed him.

"Imagine what you could do in America," he'd said to me. "Imagine all the money you could get. _We_ could get!"

Money. That was one of the deciding factors, I now realize, mostly because it was something we had very little of. Our father had left us some money upon his death, it was true, but most of what he left of us was debt and broken promises. The promise of money was a tempting one indeed. My brother assured me that in America we could everything we could ever want, everything we could ever dream of.

And so those were the grounds upon which I agreed to go with him. We purchased our tickets for the _Titanic_ with not one smidgen of doubt. This would change our lives, that we both could tell. Our lives did change, but perhaps differently than we'd anticipated.

---

"Claire!" My brother was bubbling over with excitement. In all his twenty-four years I'd never seen him act more like a child. "Claire, look at it!" His gaze was transfixed upon the massive ship. Amidst the bustling crowd, he stood still, staring in awe at its sheer size.

I couldn't help smiling at his happiness. "Oh, David, it's only a ship." Though I appreciated his enthusiasm, I didn't share it.

"Only a ship?" He looked affronted. "This happens to be the biggest ship ever built, I'll have you know."

"David, we have to keep moving. You're welcome to lecture me inside." I may have been the younger sister by five years, but David was compliant. He shuffled forwards with our luggage, every few steps glancing sideways to get another look at _Titanic_. Indeed, the ship was beautiful in its own way; I couldn't disagree. But for me there was no hopeful sun gleaming over its top; there was only its dark ominous shadow that engulfed the pier.

Around us were hundreds of people. Some were jubilant, waving estatically to their departing friends. Others were sad, exchanging tearful embraces as husbands left wives and fathers left daughters. As for me, I was saying my good-byes in silence. I was parting with the only place I knew as home, perhaps never to return. I took in all I could of this city, though even Southampton was foreign to me. Already I was miles away from anything familiar, and soon there would be an entire ocean between me and England. David was happy about this. He was convinced that in America we would find our fortunes, the riches that had been denied us in this country. He was sure that doors would be opened once we reached New York. All I could feel was a door closing in my face. I saw nothing opening for us. At least not for me.

We passed through the health inspection without a problem. When we boarded the ship David darted off down the crowded corridor to find our room, leaving me murmuring apologies to the people he'd shoved aside. Upon reaching the room I found David already inside, inspecting every inch of it. As it would turn out, we would be staying in a space hardly bigger than a large closet. There was one bed, a bunk bed, and a single wardrobe built into the wall. Opposite the door was a wash basin and above it a small circular mirror. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

"Isn't it fantastic?" David was so delighted I feared he might burst.

"Yes, David, it's wonderful," I agreed, though inside was slightly disappointed. I knew, of course, that what little money we had couldn't have bought much, but I still had hoped for something a bit more glamorous. I unbuttoned my coat and set it down on one of the stiff cots and untied the ribbon securing my hat, which was thrown down on top of my coat. I crossed the room in a few strides and peered out the small porthole. From where we were, practically at the bottom of the ship, I could clearly see the faces of those still on the pier. Children gazed with wide, sparkling eyes at the towering steamship while their mothers flapped tear-soaked handkerchiefs to their departing husbands. I took comfort in the fact that I was leaving no one behind. The person who mattered most in my life was with me on this ship. I smiled at this thought as I turned towards my brother. "Come on. Let's go up on deck."

"What for?" David had already occupied himself with unpacking. I closed the suitcase that rested in front of him and reached for his hand.

"I want to be up there when we leave."

This time it was me racing down the hallway with David in tow. I dashed past countless men with armfuls of luggage, women dragging along fussy toddlers, so many people I thought just the third class would fill up the ship.

The deck was beyond the point of crowded. People were packed close together, so close there was barely room enough to breathe. With my hand still holding David's, I pulled him towards the rail. David possessed the enthusiasm I lacked, and he leaned over the railing to wave at the hundreds of strangers. Just one look at his wild grin brought a smile to my face and I followed his example, reaching up with my hand to wave goodbye to people I never knew, never would know, and never would see again.


	2. Encounter

**Disclaimer:** Anything related to the movie is not mine. Everything else is.

---

After the departure David and I returned to our room to get settled in. The single wardrobe was thin and just barely contained all of our clothing. Our entire room felt like on stifling cage, it was so small. The unblemished sterile white walls were thick and suffocating. I decided I would only spend time in here if it was absolutely necessary. Otherwise I thought I might just go insane with claustrophobia. Of course, David wasn't bothered by the size of our quarters in the least. He was still the picture of happiness, his whole countenance brightened by the prospect of a brand new future.

We talked endlessly of what we hoped to accomplish once in New York. Well, David did most of the talking. I just listened.

"Maybe I'll start my own business," David mused. "Think of it! I could have my own factory and make thousands of dollars every day. Or maybe... Maybe I could become an actor. You know I always wanted to become an actor. I think that's what I'll do. Act, I mean."

_You and a million other people_, I thought grimly, but I said nothing. Who was I to dash his dreams like that? Besides, he still had a chance. It may have been a very slim chance, but it was there all the same.

"What are you going to do, Claire?" It took me a moment to realize he'd asked me a question, as I was having a great deal of difficulty putting a sheet on the top bunk's mattress.

"Hm?" I looked at David slowly, pulling my hands away from the mattress I had been struggling with. "Oh, I don't know." To be honest, I hadn't given the subject any thought at all. The matter didn't seem very pressing. But now that David had something to me, I realized the situation was a truly pressing one indeed. We had no money, at least none to speak of. A real job would be necessary if we hoped to survive at all in America. "I suppose... I suppose I could work as a maid somewhere." So perhaps my aspirations weren't as high as David's. I had to start somewere, though, right? Of course, David didn't appreciate my modesty.

"A maid? Are you serious?" He rolled his eyes. "Really, Claire, you need to be a bit more adventurous sometimes." I received a playful punch on the shoulder with his, and I laughed.

"You mean a bit more like _you_ sometimes?" This warranted an attack from David, who grabbed me with one arm and mussed up my hair with the other.

"Exactly," he said in a teasing growl before releasing me. "If you were more like _me_, you'd be better off.

"Is that so?" I asked, raising a brow challengingly, returning to my battle with the top bunk's mattress. "Better off meaning penniless and with nothing but the clothes on my back?"

David rolled his eyes again. "Stop exaggerating, Claire. I have two more suits in the closet."

Though this response in truth wasn't excruciatingly funny, we both found it absolutely hilarious. We laughed for a long time, perhaps out of realization that we had not a single hope in the world. Perhaps we were clinging to this brief happiness that we shared, knowing that it would end soon enough.

---

That night there was a party below deck. I hadn't planned on going, as I didn't enjoy watching my brother drink himself into oblivion (He never could hold his liquor), but David convinced me that there was someone I should meet. So I followed him to meet this person, whoever it might be, however grudgingly.

The party was loud. I don't think there was a better way to describe it. The music was loud, the people were loud, and together they were deafening. But I think I had a good time for that very reason. When you can't hear yourself think, you act more with your impulse than your thoughts. As David had previously pointed out, I was not the adventurous type, so being able to do things on a whim was great change, one I had never before experienced. I decided that very night that I would no longer be the obedient, complacent Claire Armstrong I once was. I was going to change, even if for just this voyage.

David introduced me to this "someone I just had to know," as he'd put it. His name was Fabrizio De Rossi, and I found his company enjoyable. He was quite the dancer, and my evening mostly consisted of me being whirled around the room to the lively music. I had never been one for dancing, but I accepted Fabrizio's request only on David's insistance. According to him, I needed to meet more men, as if being nineteen and unmarried were some sort of crime. To David's credit, I must admit that I had a wonderful time that night.

Fabrizio and I talked quite a bit, though this became an increasingly difficult feat as the volume rose around us. I discovered that he'd won his ticket in a poker game, thanks to his friend Jack. I met Jack only briefly, but he seemed friendly and pleasant. We talked of other things, our hometowns, the lives we were leaving behind, various things we enjoyed. When the morning hours drew close, I said my good-byes to Fabrizio, and he told me he hoped to see me again.

Back in the cabin, I was surprised to find David already sound asleep on the bottom bunk. I sighed and frowned to myself. We'd had an agreement that I would get the bottom bunk, but I supposed David could be excused this once. Besides, I wouldn't want him rolling out of bed in the state he was in. I pitied him; he'd no doubt have a brutal hangover in the morning. I dressed for bed and crawled up to the top bunk, the stiff springs creaking under my weight. Within minutes, I was asleep and dreaming.

---

I was the first one awake the next morning. David hadn't moved from the position he'd been in the night before. I let him sleep, figuring he'd need at least another hour or so of slumber. I dressed quickly then moved to the wash basin to clean my face and used the mirror to put my hair up. It was no easy feat, but soon enough I had my hair pinned back, though it did look a little sloppy. A few auburn curls poked out from the knot on my head or dangled beside my cheeks. But it didn't matter. I had no one to impress, so I was allowed to look less then pristine. I took my hat and coat from their hook beside the bed and made my way towards the open deck for some fresh air.

Outside the air already had a nip to it, though the actual journey hadn't quite begun. We were on our way to Queenstown, after having stopped at Cherbourg. Even so, there was a chill in the breeze as it met my face when I stepped out onto the deck. I placed my hat atop my head and pulled the ribbons down to tie it, but a gust of wind yanked it from my fingers and pulled it up towards the sky. I turned to watch my hat being lifted upwards towards the B-Deck, its navy blue ribbons trailing behind like the tail of a kite. I scurried after it, feeling like a child chasing after a runaway balloon. I saw it disappear behind a group of people on the deck above, and I scrambled up the stairs after it, pushing open the metal gate only to see my hat staring me in the face, held by a gloved hand.

"Is this yours?" a voice asked and I looked up. A man was standing in front of me, holding my hat. He was smiling lightly, but not in the amused way I might have expected. His hair was dark, but his eyes were bright, a gentle yet stirring shade of gray. His face was shaven and slightly angular, his features defined and pronounced, and I couldn't help finding him deeply attractive. I could tell he was older than me, perhaps older than David, even, but that didn't stop my from thinking him the most handome man I'd ever laid eyes on.

I nodded to him slowly and reaching to take my hat from his hands. "Yes," I said, my voice unintentionally lacking volume, "thank you."

The man's smile widened ever so slightly, and his expression became entrancing. "You should be more careful," he warned, though it was clear he meant it in a friendly sort of way. At least I imagined he did. "This hat could have easily been lost to to ocean." His voice was deep, yet soft and comforting. He was American, I deduced, perhaps taking this voyage to return home.

I tried to smile back at him, though I feared the expression looked weak and insincere. "I suppose I was lucky to you here, then." As soon as the words had left me mouth I wished them back. This man was clearly of a different class than I. I couldn't be sure if a comment like that would or wouldn't be appreciated. I bit my tongue to keep from saying anything foolish as I pressed my hat onto my head and tied the ribbons hastily.

Much to my surprise, the man laughed, his baritone voice rippling with amusment. "Yes, I suppose you were. Be sure to let me know if that hat gives you any more trouble."

I grinned faintly and nodded. "Of course."

I turned away feeling like the biggest fool ever to walk the earth. As I descended the stairs back to the C-Deck, I couldn't help stealing a glance back at the man who'd rescued my hat. His eyes were still on me as I walked away, and I pulled my gaze from his quickly. Inside I was bursting with a strange, bubbling feeling of happiness, though deep down I knew it couldn't truly last.


	3. Frederick Seward

**Disclaimer:** The Titanic movie is not mine and never will be.

---

I returned to my cabin to find David just waking up. His face was pale and his hair a mess. He rubbed his eyes blearily as I entered.

"Where've you been?" he mumbled, still half-asleep.

I passed him swiftly to remove my coat, which I tossed on his lap. "Good morning to you, too." I wasn't angry, really, just a bit annoyed. I'd told him countless times that I didn't like to see him drink so much, but he never listened. And it was late already, almost eleven o'clock. He should have been up hours ago.

"Hey, Claire, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sleep so late." He sat up, but too quickly, and hit his head on the bottom of the bunk above him. "Ow..." David gave a low groan and rubbed his injured head. I sent him a triumphant smirk.

"That's what you get for drinking all that beer." David pouted like an insulted toddler and shrank back on his bed. He shoved my coat off of his legs and stood up slowly.

"Are you going to answer me or not?" I looked at him, confused. "Where've you been all morning?" Oh. I shrugged and turned away, taking my hat off with care as if it would fly away even though I was safely inside. I gave a small shrug, not ready to divulge all the details of my outing.

"Oh, I just went for some fresh air." 

David looked at me, his eyes wide and expectant. I didn't like the smirk that was creeping over his face. "That's all?"

What was with him? I nodded definitively. "Yes. That's all."

There was a momentary silence, before David decided he wasn't through with his interrogation. "What did you think of Fabrizio?"

I shrugged again, turning towards the mirror as I pretended to fix my hair. "He was friendly."

David wasn't satisfied. "Just friendly?"

At that, I whirled around to face him fully. That's where he was going with all this? "What are you getting at?" I didn't really have to ask, since I knew David well enough to know what he was up to, but I wanted to hear him say it.

"Well, I just thought you two might be able to get to know each other better."

David was wearing a sly grin, one I would have gladly wiped clean off his face. I couldn't help feeling insulted, having my brother arrange meetings between me and other men as though I couldn't do so on my own. I thought myself perfectly capable of finding the right man on my own, and I resented that David had taken it upon himself to locate a suitor for me. I sighed, an effort to contain my anger, as I told myself that David was only doing what he thought was right, that he was doing this because he cared about me.

"David, I'm old enough to take care of myself. I may be your little sister, but I'm not a baby anymore. From now on, can you let _me_ decide who I have to meet?"

He gave a dejected sigh and nodded. "Alright," was all he said, but I knew he wouldn't let go of the subject that easily. I knew my brother too well for that.

---

David had left me a little after lunch time, and I returned to the cabin alone. We agreed to meet up for dinner in the dining room, but only after I made him promise not to say anything about me to Fabrizio should he see him. It wasn't a promise easily obtained, but it was worth the trouble. I felt much safer knowing my brother wouldn't be making any more arrangements behind my back.

I'd spent the last hour or so in the confines of my room. I had intentions of sorting out my future, deciding just what I'd do once the ship docked in New York. We were truly on our way now, having left Queenstown behind, and I knew I was only a few days away from a whole new life. What I was going to do with that life had to be decided. But however much I tried to concentrate on the subject, my mind kept drifting away. Soon enough my head was filled with one image only, and that was of the man I'd met earlier. However much I tried to push him from my thoughts, he returned, and soon I was lost in him, caught up in his smile, his sparkling eyes. Could he really have had such an effect on me? I'd only seen him once, and only very briefly, and yet I couldn't let go of his grinning face.

Pushing myself off the bed, I decided it was time to get ready for dinner. I would be early, but the preparation would get my mind off that man, that man who I had no business speaking to, who had no doubt settled back into his first-class comfort, leaving me to despair in the fact that I'd never be good enough to be looked on by him.

I left the cabin feeling better than I had before, and I thought my mind was far from the subject of the gentleman I'd met earlier. I felt refreshed, in a way. I turned down the long corridor, passing several people who I didn't know but to whom I nodded several 'hello's all the same. I felt bright and cheerful as I made my way towards the dining room, but in my daze I must have made a wrong turn. I went up staircase after staircase, walked down endless corridors that brought me right back where I'd started. The ship was endless, and I was lost in it. One staircase left me huffing and puffing for breath, and I clutched the railing tightly as I neared the last step. Looking around this new hallway told me I was in the wrong place.

The hall was beautiful, not the drab white of the third-class corridors. The walls were of carved, polished wood, and electric lanterns lit up the room. The carpet was vibrant and delicately detailed, and my steps were muffled by its softness. And all at once I knew I was out of place. My clothes were far too dull for me to belong here, and I knew I should leave, but I didn't know how to get to where I was supposed to be. I spent several moments contemplating my predicament before my thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Good evening, miss." I was startled, and turned around quickly with surprise. I don't know who or what I expected to find standing there, but there aren't words to describe my shock when I found the man from before, the man who'd given me back my hat... The man who'd remained in my thoughts all day.

And he was speaking to me. He wasn't telling me to get back to third-class where I belonged, and nothing in his expression told me he was about to, either. His face was alight with a winning smile, his eyes flickering brightly. He was dressed in a fine suit, much fancier than anything David could ever afford, his starched shirt impossibly white against the black of his tailcoat and pants.

"G-good evening," I stammered back, hardly able to get over the fact that he'd spoken to me at all. He merely smiled at me once more. I doubted he knew just how his smile was able to set my heart aflutter. Or perhaps he did and enjoyed making young women want to collapse at his feet in admiration..

"You seem lost," he said, and I braced myself to have him tell me I didn't belong here. "Are you looking for someone?" was what he asked instead, and I had to clench my teeth to keep my jaw from hanging open. His kindness was like none I'd ever received, so I was quick to doubt his sincerity, but I can't describe how touched I was. He was no upper class snob, no arrogrant prat like many men were. He seemed so warm and friendly that I couldn't help smiling back at him.

"Actually," I began, this time with more confidence in my voice, "I'm looking for the dining room." And then I added, painfully, "The third-class dining room."

The man seemed unfazed by this as he nodded, giving me another heart-stopping smile accompanied by a brief, light-hearted chuckle. "Well, I'm afraid you're two decks off. I'd be more than happy to take you there. That is, if you wouldn't mind an escort."

Me? Mind having _him_ as an escort? Of course I didn't mind. It would be more wonderful than words to have him take me there, for me to have a few brief minutes with this entrancing gentleman. But I felt as though it wasn't right, for me to desire his company so when he was so clearly beyond my reach. "I hate to cause you any trouble, sir."

He shook his head, smiling, perhaps at my subtle modesty, perhaps at my sillines for having gotten lost in the first place. I did hope it was not the latter. "It's no trouble at all. Come." And he held out his arm for me to take, which I could only stare at. _Was this happening?_ I had to wonder. _Was this man really so wonderful? So amazing?_ So... _Indescribably perfect?_

The man laughed softly, his eyes twinkling. "Are you coming? Or am I to leave you to find the dining room on your own?" His tone was light and teasing, and he once more managed to brighten my face with a grin. I stepped to beside him and slipped my hand slowly through the crook of his arm and we started down the staircase together.

"So do you have a name?" the man asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Claire," I said, perhaps a bit to hastily. "Claire Armstrong." Then I asked, rather boldly, "And I'm guessing you have a name, too." This produced another one of his dazzling smiles, a reaction I now was eager to receive.

"Frederick Seward. But you're welcome to call me Freddie."

I grinned. "Only if you call me Claire."

Yet another smile. "Alright." He paused briefly as we came to a turn in the staircase, then said, "So what do you think of _Titanic_, Claire"

It might not have been the sort of question I was expecting, but it was conversation. "My brother and I are going to America." What a stupid answer. Of _course_ we were going to America. Where else could we be going? The North Pole? I hastily tried to regain some dignity. "He had this silly idea that we'd go to New York and instantly make a fortune. He's always been a bit impulsive, I suppose, but I couldn't let him go on his own."

"So you think that your going with him will keep him safe?" The question was asked just as we passed an opening in the staircase, but Freddie kept on walking. I didn't doubt his navigation, and I followed as we turned down another stairwell, my arm still through his.

"In a way, yes. David was never one to use his head." I said this as though it explained everything. In truth, it did give a good amount of explanation (I would have been there to keep David out of trouble, prevent him from being tricked by some conniving businessman or something of that sort), but it didn't cover everything. I had my own hopes for America, too, though I didn't know if they'd be reached.

I couldn't help noticing that Freddie slowed his pace, and only now do I see that it was to lengthen our time together. Did he really want to stay with me longer, even if for just a few moments?

"So what are your plans?" He asked this as though he'd been reading my thoughts. I looked at him for a moment before giving a small shrug.

"I don't know." I looked down at the stairs, watched my feet as I placed one on the next step, then the next. I was hoping he'd pick up on my wishes to drop this subject.

But we reached the dining room before he could say another word. It seemed like a pleasant room, with long tables aligned in two neat rows. A delicious aroma hung heavy in the air, and the thought of food made my mouth water. I hadn't realized how hungry I was. There was a fair number of people there already, and I hoped David wasn't among them, fearing that he might have been worried by my taking so long.

"Well," Freddie said as he pulled his arm away, "it was very nice meeting you Claire. I do hope we can see each other again." And then he did the unthinkable. He lifted my hand in his, brought it swiftly to his lips and kissed the back of my hand. In an instant my hand had fallen back to my side, and I watched as Freddie returned to the staircase. He looked back at me only once, but in that single glance he made my insides melt and my cheeks grow warm with a light blush. Within moments he'd disappeared around a curve in the staircase, and I was left gazing after him like a lovestruck fool.

I stared at the stairs he'd passed over, though he was long gone. I could feel a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, and in the silence I could hear myself whisper, "Goodbye, Freddie."

---

**A/N:** Just to let you know, Frederick Seward was a real passenger on the Titanic, and he did survive. I do not know the exact age he was at the time, but for the sake of the story I'll say he's around 30 years old, maybe a bit younger. I know nothing about his history except his name.

Merry Christmas, everyone. :)


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